C H A P T E R F O R T Y – S E V E N
He’s hurt. And I never meant for it to do so, but I’m not surprised. It would break me if I were him.
C H A P T E R F O R T Y – S E V E N
Olwyn
T he soft light of morning filters through the windows, gently rousing me from sleep.
My body is sore, but there’s a strange comfort in it—a reminder of the night before, of how close we had been. But as I blink the sleep from my eyes, something feels… off. And I remember.
I sit up slowly, my hand reaching for the spot beside me, but it’s empty. Altair is sitting at the end of the bed, fully dressed, his elbows resting on his knees, head bowed.
“Altair?” I murmur, my voice thick with sleep.
He doesn’t turn to look at me, just stares at the floor, his hands clasped together tightly.
I push the blankets aside, my feet hitting the cold stone floor as I stand. A knot is already forming in my stomach. There’s a sadness in his posture, a resignation that twists something inside me.
“When you’re dressed… let’s go talk,” he says quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. He finally looks at me, and his gaze nearly knocks the air from my lungs. His eyes are soft, but there’s sorrow there.
I nod slowly, not trusting myself to speak. I don’t know what truths he’s about to tell me, but I can already tell that whatever it is, it’s going to change everything.
“I’ll leave you be,” he says, standing and moving toward the door. “We’ll talk outside. In the gardens.”
The gardens. My favourite place. I don’t know whether to feel comforted by that or even more on edge. I nod again, my throat too tight to form words as I watch him leave the room.
I dress quickly, pulling on a simple gown and braiding my hair. My hands are shaking, and I have to force myself to breathe. Something is coming, something big, and I’m not ready. I know I’m not, even though I demanded to be told.
When I open my door, Iolas is leaning casually against the wall opposite, arms crossed over his chest. He straightens when he sees me, his usual grin flickering to life, though it feels more subdued than usual.
“Thought you’d never come out,” he says lightly, his tone playful but lacking its usual sharpness. His gaze sweeps over me, assessing but not lingering, and he raises a brow. “Big day ahead, huh?”
I nod, unable to find words past the knot in my throat.
He falls into step beside me as I walk past, his hands tucked into his pockets.
The walk is quiet at first, the tension in the air pressing down on me like a weight. Sensing it, Iolas glances my way, his voice gentler than usual. “You know, if this is more than you want to handle, you don’t have to face it alone. I’ll be here after.”
I swallow hard, his words offering a shred of comfort even though the knot in my chest remains. “I asked to be told,” I murmur. “I need to know.”
He nods, his gaze flicking forward. “Then you’ll know,” he says simply. “And when you do, we’ll deal with it. Together.”
By the time we reach the gardens, Altair is already there, standing near my favourite bench. He looks out over the lush greenery, his hands resting at his sides, but his shoulders are tense, as though bracing for a storm.
Iolas pauses at the entrance, turning to face me fully. “You’re stronger than you think,” he says softly. “Don’t forget that.”
I nod, holding onto his words like a lifeline. As I step forward toward Altair, Iolas lingers for a moment before heading back down the path, his presence a quiet reassurance even as he disappears from view.
“Altair?” I call softly, stepping toward him.
He turns to face me, his expression softening slightly as his eyes meet mine, but the sadness remains, like a dark cloud that won’t lift.
He gestures toward the bench. “Sit with me,” he says, his voice gentler now.
I sit down, the cool stone of the bench grounding me as the soft breeze rustles the leaves overhead. He sits beside me but keeps his distance, his body turned slightly toward me, though his gaze is fixed on the flowers blooming around us.
“I need you to listen,” he begins, his voice steady but laced with something heavy. “Please… don’t interrupt. Just listen to what I have to say.”
I nod, my hands clasping tightly in my lap. My heart is already racing, and I have to remind myself to breathe as he continues.
“When I was a boy,” he begins, his voice quiet, almost distant, “I attended an academy for both vampire and human children.”
My back stiffens.
“It was… a different time. A time when there was hope for peace between our people. And… there was a girl there.”
He pauses, and something tightens in my chest.
“A girl with silver hair and spring green eyes. I remember the first time I saw her—I was only a child, but I swear I fell in love with her at that moment. She had this… energy, this light about her that drew everyone in. Especially me.” His lips twitch, a faint, sad smile. “She used to play with me… with a boy who had hazel eyes, and a fierce girl with dark skin. The four of us were inseparable.”
The knot in my stomach tightens painfully. A boy with hazel eyes. A fierce girl with dark skin. Iolas. Ailith. He’s talking about Iolas and Ailith.
“I loved her,” Altair continues, his voice thickening with emotion. “She was everything. But there was another boy at the academy, a vampire, who used to try and diminish her light relentlessly. I don’t know why… maybe he was jealous of her, of the way she shone. But one day…”
He pauses, his jaw clenching as if the memory is too painful to speak aloud.
“One day, the bullying became too much. She couldn’t handle it. And… her powers awakened. In a single moment of overwhelming emotion, she… she lost control. Her magic exploded, destroying the classroom. The children inside. The teacher… Almost everyone.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. My breath leaves me, and a cold, sinking feeling settles into my bones. No. No, that can’t be right. I can’t…
But as he speaks, flashes of memories begin to surface—shattered fragments of something I’ve buried deep inside. Blood. So much blood. Screams. The classroom destroyed. The smell of death and charred wood.
I choke on a breath, and tears blur my vision.
“She didn’t survive,” Altair says softly, his voice thick with sorrow. “Or at least, I thought she hadn’t. After the explosion, there was no sign of her. I believed she was dead. For years, I carried that with me.”
He lets his hand fall, his gaze soft but unrelenting. “After that day, I changed. I became… someone else. After a few years of being the old king’s assassin, he heard about the prophecy of a silver-haired, green-eyed witch, and he commanded me to hunt her down. But I refused. I couldn’t bear the thought of it being her, or harming her, if she was still alive.”
His voice hardens slightly, and I can feel the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. “The king grew jealous of my power, and he wanted to take something from me. He wanted to take you. So, I killed him. I killed him to protect the hope that maybe, just maybe, you were still out there.”
I stare at him, my mind reeling, trying to process everything he’s telling me. “You… you killed the king? For me?”
He nods, his blue eyes glassy with unshed tears.
I shake my head, tears streaming down my face. “I…” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “I didn’t…”
Kill them, I want to say, but the words stick in my throat. Because I know it’s true. Deep down, in the part of me I’ve tried to bury, I know. I can see it now—flashes of that day. The explosion. The destruction. The bodies.
“I killed them,” I choke out, my hands trembling. “I killed them all.”
Altair reaches for me, his hand gently cupping my cheek as his thumb wipes away a tear. “It wasn’t your fault, Olwyn,” he says softly. “You were a child. You didn’t know.”
I shake my head, pulling away from his touch. It’s too much. The guilt, the horror—it crushes me.
“I’ve spent years searching for you, Olwyn. Years . And when I heard about a hidden princess in Avantra, I knew it had to be you. I attacked your palace because I believed it was the only way to find you.”
I swallow hard, my throat tight with emotion. “But… my parents…”
Altair’s voice remains soft but unyielding. “They’re not your parents,” he says quietly, his eyes locked on mine. “They were fakes. Guardians put in place by your real mother… Atha.”
Atha …
My heart races, my mind scrambling to make sense of what he’s saying. “No… that can’t be true. My parents are Alexis and Petr.”
“Atha knew about the prophecy. She hid you away to protect you, but not from me, or from vampires. She was protecting herself. Have you never questioned the lack of resemblance? Why the king and queen neglected you so?”
Of course I had.
But some parents are just shitty.
“If it’s true, why would my mother want to hide me? Why would she—”
Try and kill me.
“Because she knows who you are, Olwyn,” Altair says, his gaze filled with sorrow. “She knows you’re the one from the prophecy. To end the cycle of destruction. To unite everyone. She’s always known, and she’s terrified of what that means.”
His words hit me like a blow, stealing the breath from my lungs, and I remember what Sera and Thalia said. “Unite?” I whisper, barely able to form the word.
But I remember what my parents… what they told me when I was a child. End the cycle of destruction… They said it meant I would destroy the vampires. That I would rid the world of their curse forever. And that’s why they would want me dead.
“End the cycle?” I whisper, my voice trembling. “You mean… annihilate them?”
Altair’s expression shifts to shock, and then pain. “Annihilate?” he echoes, his brow furrowing. “Is that what they told you? No, Olwyn. That’s not it at all.”
I blink at him, confusion swirling with doubt. “But that’s what the prophecy means. That’s why you married me, isn’t it? To control me? To keep me from… from destroying your people?” My voice rises, and I hate the quiver in it. “Isn’t that what this is all about?”
Altair leans closer, his sorrow deepening. “Olwyn, no. That’s not why I married you. And that’s not what the prophecy means.” He takes a deep breath, as though steadying himself. “The prophecy says you’re destined to unite humans and vampires. To end the cycle of destruction—not through annihilation, but through peace. Through change.”
His words pierce through me, unravelling everything I thought I knew.
“She fears the end of what she believes is order,” Altair continues, his voice quiet but steady. “Your parents—your human parents—wanted you to believe otherwise. They wanted you to see the prophecy as a call to destroy vampires because they thrive on division, on fear. Your mother is terrified of what you represent. She knows that if you succeed, everything will change. The power balance between humans and vampires will shift. There won’t be any more divisions. No more war. But people like her don’t want peace, Olwyn. They want dominance. It was your mother who foretold the prophecy. And when she realised that you had been found, that I had taken you… she acted out of fear. She sent the assassins to my palace. She sent those men to kill us on our return from the village.”
I shake my head, my hands trembling. “No… she couldn’t have… She wouldn’t have sent people to kill me. She’s my mother.”
“She did,” Altair says, his eyes pleading for me to understand. “She knows what you are, and she fears the future you represent.”
His words are suffocating. My real mother… had tried to kill me? Because she feared I would end the hostilities between vampires and humans? Because I’m supposed to unite them?
How am I supposed to believe all this?
How can I be responsible for uniting anyone ?
I stand abruptly, shaking my head. “No. This doesn’t make sense. Why would I be the one to unite them? I can’t even control my own powers! How am I supposed to change anything?”
Altair steps closer, his voice quiet but firm. “You’re strong, Olwyn. You’re the key to peace between our people. The prophecy says you’ll end the destruction by uniting us all. That’s why Atha is trying to stop you.”
I take a step back, my heart pounding in my chest. “This is too much. It’s impossible. I can’t—”
“Olwyn,” Altair’s voice softens, his eyes filled with guilt and sorrow. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. But I’m here, and I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
But his words only make the turmoil inside me worse. Everything I’ve known, everything I thought was true—it’s all crumbling. My entire life has been a lie.
I step away from him, my hands shaking as I try to make sense of everything. “No. This is too much.”
“Olwyn…” he says softly, standing as well, his gaze filled with guilt and sorrow.
“I need time,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “I need time to think.”
Altair doesn’t stop me as I turn and walk away, my heart racing, my mind spinning.
When I reach my chambers, the silence feels too loud, like the world is pressing in on me from all sides. I close the door behind me, leaning back against it for a moment, trying to catch my breath. My chest feels tight, and the ache in my heart refuses to ease. How am I supposed to make sense of any of this? Everything I thought I knew about my life, about who I am, has been ripped apart.
My eyes catch on something strange, resting on the centre of my bed—a box. It’s small, simple, and unmarked, placed carefully as if waiting for me. I frown, pushing myself off the door and walking over to it, my pulse quickening with each step.
With trembling hands, I open the box.
Inside, nestled in a bed of velvet… is a dagger.
My breath hitches.
It’s the same dagger I saw at Elderglen. The same silver blade with the white oak handle, the one that had caught my eye at the blacksmith’s stall. The dagger made of witchsilver; the only thing capable of killing a pureblood vampire.
My fingers hover above it, but I don’t touch it. Altair must have bought it for me.
And for the first time, in as long as I can remember.
I fall. I fall apart.
A sob escapes me, tearing through my chest, and I can’t hold it back anymore. The walls I’ve built, the strength I’ve tried to cling to, all of it crumbles in an instant. I collapse onto the bed, burying my face in my hands as the tears come, hot and fast, soaking into the sheets beneath me.
I cry for the little girl who can’t remember what she lost, for the young woman who doesn’t know where she belongs anymore, for the truth that has been hidden from me, and for the lies I’ve been told. I cry for the choices I have to make now, the decisions that could change everything.
But mostly, I cry because I’m scared. Scared of the power inside me, scared of what I’ve already done, scared of what I might do…
Scared of who I’m falling for…
Eventually, the tears slow, but the ache in my chest remains. I wipe my eyes, glancing at the dagger once more before carefully closing the box. I can’t deal with this now. Not tonight.
But tomorrow… tomorrow will come whether I’m ready for it or not.
With a shaky breath, I crawl under the covers, pulling them tightly around me. The room feels cold, too large, and too empty.